


Weakness

by ashandcas (ashriddle4)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9x23, Angst, Cas finds out Dean is dead, Flashbacks, M/M, Pretty much canon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 01:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashriddle4/pseuds/ashandcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas thinks on the last year when he discovers from Metatron that Dean is dead. (The MCD in this is just the canon death of Dean).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weakness

**Author's Note:**

> I've just been really interested in thinking about what goes through Cas's head when he finds out about Dean's death so this is basically that - with some added fantasies of Cas's for, ya know, science :)

**“His true weakness is revealed. He's in love."  
**

 

Castiel no longer possesses this sort of angelic power, the degree of power it would take to bend time, and yet he cannot deny that is precisely how he feels as Metatron tells him ~~Dean, my Dean~~ , Dean Winchester is dead. Because the chords of the universe slow down, and he’s reliving the moments that brought him here, to the worst place he can imagine, the worst news:

 

Dean Winchester is dead.

 

~~And he’ll never know how I feel…~~

Just last night, he’d sat across the table from Dean. Dean with that sleepy, far-off look in his eye.

“You gave up your army for one guy.”

“Do you think we three will be enough?” Cas had asked.

“We always have been.”

Cas had been waiting for this moment, waiting for that subtle shift, and he thought he’d found it. Dean’s legs were resting, one on the outside of his left and one between Cas’s legs, and Cas breathed in the closeness.

He had every intention of whispering what he’d waiting so long, ~~too long~~ , to whisper, “It wasn’t for one guy…it was for you. It’s been true for longer than I even realized, but now I know. Now I know what I’m feeling and I need you to know. I’m in love with you, Dean.” ~~And I’ll cherish you and keep you. I’ll carve your name into my skin, into my grace, my soul, whatever my father gives me, so you’ll know, so the whole world will know, so God will know, that I am yours and yours alone in this life and through eternity.~~

Cas let himself imagine what Dean would do. Subtly take his hand, bring Cas’s palm to his lips and kiss the center, kiss down his wrist…but that was far too gentle for Dean. No, he’d probably reach across the table, grab Cas by the collar of his jacket and, for a breath, Cas would think Dean was angry with him, but then strong, chapped lips would be on Castiel’s and a tongue would press against his lips, and Cas wouldn’t even think twice about opening his mouth, about letting Dean in.

Sam would be asleep, so they’d stumble through the bunker, hands in each other’s hair and running over skin. Small, frantic touches saying things Dean would never let Castiel say aloud.

~~You are beloved.~~

~~You are remarkable.~~

~~You are good.~~

Dean would back Cas into his bedroom, lay him down on the bed as he, button by button, removed the layers of clothes that kept them apart, until it was just skin against skin and Dean would say, “We shouldn’t. I’m poison” and Cas would say, “I’d rather have you, poison or not” and Dean would laugh and kiss him again.

When they’d finally come together, it would be like when God split that first atom. That same kind of thunder, that same kind of power, that same kind of creation, and Castiel would be as powerless against it as he was against the first gasping breaths of the universe. He’d succumb to it, submit to it, because that was all he’d ever wanted. To be remade by the righteous man as Castiel had once remade him.

But none of that had ever happened because of Gadreel, because of the Mark.

 

. . .

 

Cas had known when Hannah asked him what his answer would be. It was a choice he hated to make, between his people and his heart, but it was still an easy choice. It was no choice at all.

The worst part, though, was the way Dean had looked at him like it had been a question. Like he wasn’t sure Cas would choose him. The Cas that had chosen power and souls over the Winchesters had drown in that river and the Cas from before purgatory would never, ever come back. He was a different man. Stolen grace or not, he was a _man._ ~~I am human.~~

“Don’t give it all up for one man,” Hannah had said.

~~I’d give up the sun for this man. I’d tear apart the dimensions to bring him happiness. I’d burn myself to ash. I’d burn the world to ash for this one man. So who the hell do you think you are?~~

“I can’t.”

Cas had never taken his eyes off Dean, and Dean had never stopped looking at him. He saw relief and surprise and gratitude ~~and love~~ in Dean’s face, and that would make any sacrifice worth it.

 

. . .

 

They’d talked on the phone. Not eight hours after Dean had left Cas’s headquarters the first time. Dean had been the one to call him…

“I miss food.”

 ~~I miss the way you talk with your mouth full~~.

Dean had laughed. “Then eat something.”

“It’s not the same.”

“I miss showers.”

~~I miss the sounds you’d make when you showered. The sharp intakes of breath. The low groans.~~

“Those aren’t the same either?”

“Not really.”

“Do you miss your job at the Gas-and-Sip?”

“I miss blue raspberry Slurpee’s.”

~~I miss sharing one with you while we sat on the motel bed and watched infomercials.~~

“I remember.”

He wasn’t going to tell Dean about what had happened. He and his angels could deal with it, but…

“There’s, uh, sort of another case here.”

~~Come back. I need you here. I miss you.~~

“Really?”

“If you’re interested.”

 

. . .

 

When Dean had hugged Cas in his office, had wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, he’d felt Dean stiffen, felt his discomfort. It wasn’t the first time they’d touched like this, but the first time they’d done so with other’s watching. Dean was always so self-conscious, but Cas didn’t care, couldn’t care.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that would keep all the pieces of himself from flying away. Cas appreciated the familiar roughness of Dean’s jacket, the scent of leather and cinnamon and motel shampoo.

When Sam came in behind them, one of Dean’s arms fell away, but the other one stayed for just a beat, moved slowly against Cas’s side. Cas’s heart stuttered. If he could just stay there forever, just like that, Cas would give anything.

 

. . .

 

Cas remembered when he’d first seen that Dean had taken the Mark of Cain. Remembered the fear that had barreled into him like the bottom of a waterfall, the fear that had twisted and turned itself until it just became,

“Dammit Dean.”

~~If only I could have stopped this, if only it could have been me~~

. . .

 

He’d never seen Dean so broken, even after Cas had hit him over and over, because Naomi forced him, controlled him. Cas had tried to make Dean better, but his words didn’t seem to be enough.

“You were stupid for the right reasons.”

It wasn’t enough.

And that was when it happened, when Dean’s whole body shuddered like an earthquake had been released at his feet and radiated through every taut muscle in his body. He suddenly went slack, like a cut cord, and tumbled into Cas. He buried his face, his stubbled jaw, against Castiel’s neck. Cas froze, his veins like stone, but Dean didn’t relent. Didn’t stop gripping the front of Cas’s coat. Suddenly, somehow, by some miraculous means, instinct took over. Cas’s hand threaded into Dean’s hair, his other arm wrapped around Dean’s waist. It wasn’t a hug, so much as it was Cas holding Dean. Keeping him.

Cas wasn’t stupid. He knew they’d never speak of this again. They’d pretend it never happened, but for now Cas had ~~his heart, breath, reason for living~~ Dean in his arms and that would be enough.

~~That was a blessing.~~

. . .

 

Castiel couldn’t remember being as happy as he was then, in that bar. Yes, he was drunk. It was easier being drunk than sober around Dean. He could relax and let that tension and fear roll off his shoulders.

His leg pressed against Dean’s under the table. He’d move it slowly, deliberately, the shudder of fabric against fabric, sending tingles of excitement through his already tipsy body. Dean could’ve pulled away. He didn’t really reciprocate, but he didn’t pull away either.

And, hell, Cas couldn’t take his eyes off Dean and Dean kept looking back at him. The last thing he wanted to talk about was April, but Dean brought her up. Still, in a way, they were talking about sex and remembering April made him think about other things, about how many of the things he felt that night, he was feeling now. He’d always felt when Dean was near.

 ~~Sweaty palms~~. ~~Faster heart~~. ~~Dry mouth~~. ~~Spinning stomach~~. ~~Adrenaline rush~~.

When Sam stood up and left them alone, Castiel ~~in his infinite naivety~~ had half expected Dean to reach out for his knee under the table, lean in closer and whisper, “I’m glad you’re back, man. Glad you’re here.”

~~Stay with me.~~

But, of course, he didn’t.

“We just can’t work together.”

And Cas wondered what happened to the heart in his chest…why was it now just a pile of shattered glass?

 

. . .

 

Cas would never forget that feeling when he’d looked up at the Gas-and-Sip and seen Dean staring back at him smiling. ~~That smile, that wonderful, miraculous thing that breathed life into me, poured water on my dry and cracked throat. That damn, stupid smile.~~ He’d wanted to hit him, to yell at him, to make him feel as badly as he had made Cas feel. He’d wanted to tear that stupid grin off his face with ~~his lips~~ his fists.

Dean had left him alone, abandoned him, when Cas needed him most and Cas didn’t know why. The only thing he could guess was it was because Cas wasn’t an angel anymore. He lacked the power to help Dean or help Sam. What other reason could there be?

~~But then why was he smiling at me like that? Why were his eyes doing that thing where they pull in the heat of the sun and shine it back out? Why was he looking at me like he found something precious he lost?~~

And when Dean had said Norah liked him, said he should go out on a date with her, that she wanted him. The thought made him dizzy and not in the good way. But he was going to have to adjust to being human and this was the way, right? The same way Metatron had told him. Find a wife, a family, live a life.

The world stopped when those words came out of Dean’s mouth. The world halted on its spinning axis and Castiel could feel it slow and slide, slide, slide.

“I can’t let you do this.”

I can’t let you do this.

I can’t let you

I can’t…

Would Dean stop him from leaving? From going on this date, from trying to be a normal human. Would he say, “Come back to the bunker. I’ll teach you to hunt. Come home.”

But he didn’t. He said something about buttons and shirts and dates and ~~screw this, dammit, screw it, I’m so stupid~~. Of course, Dean was just giving him advice about a date. Like his big brother or his dad. Being human was messing with Cas’s head.

Then, later, after everything, Dean had come back for him. Dean had rocked Nora’s baby in his arms, a small smile on his face. He’d helped sooth the baby’s fever and sang a song with the name Jude in it. In that moment, Cas thought maybe this human thing was just confusing him and the faster beat in his heart when Dean was near, the sick sad feeling he got when he couldn’t be near him, the way his breath would catch in his throat when they touched, the flush he’d feel in his cheeks ~~and in other places~~ was just how you’d feel for a friend, for family, for someone you care for deeply.

When Dean asked, “Where to, Cas?”

He’d said, “ ~~Home. Take me home with you.~~ I could, uh, use a bed…to you know sleep.”

Cas thought maybe Dean would question where he’d been sleeping before, but he didn’t he just said, “I gotta room.”

So they went back to Dean’s motel, which just had one bed, and they sat on it together and ate chips and cookies from the vending machines and shared a blue raspberry Slurpee. _Shared._

Cas tried really hard not to think about how his lips were where Dean’s lips had just been every time he took a sip, but he couldn’t help it.

They watched infomercials and Cas’s eyes got heavy and the last thing he remembered was his head falling against Dean’s shoulder. They woke up together. On top of the covers, but together.

It was the best night of Cas’s life. Human or angel.

And then Dean left – and it was the worst day of his life ~~until today~~.

 

. . .

 

Castiel never quite understood how he felt about Dean when he was an angel. The thing about being an angel was that it muted everything. Colors, sounds, touches were all duller than as a human. Still, Cas saw, heard and felt more around Dean than he ever had in the tens of thousands, the hundreds of thousands, of years he ‘d lived before.

However, it wasn’t until April that he realized that all of those feelings were not feelings you feel for a friend. When she kissed him and his heart rate picked up and his hands sweated and there was a burn in his lower abdomen, those weren’t new feelings. He’d felt them dozens of times before…with Dean. But here, he knew what was happening, what his body was telling him, because April was kissing him and touching him and he’d been around long enough to figure out what they were about to do – and his human body. His tired, broken, out-of-control human body didn’t even know how to say no.

But when they were together, he just couldn’t help it. Castiel imagined hard, muscled planes beneath his fingers. A deep voice breathing his name over and over in his ear. The taste of whiskey and cinnamon. It was wrong…he shouldn’t be thinking this way, thinking of Dean right now, at this moment. But Dean was all Castiel could think about, all Castiel had ever, could ever want.

And maybe, just maybe, when Cas got back to the bunker, he’d tell Dean just how he felt. But he probably wouldn’t because he wouldn’t risk losing Dean…nothing would be worth losing Dean, even the promise of this.

 

. . .

 

Castiel can’t help it. Just like he couldn’t help it all those years ago when, burnt and exhausted, he tore Dean Winchester’s soul from hell. He can’t help the words that rip out of him, sound and echo through all of creation, for every angel to hear.

~~Dean Winchester is saved.~~

Dean Winchester is dead…and Castiel might as well be.


End file.
